


This

by sklove



Category: General Hospital (TV 1963)
Genre: 7 short drabbles, Challenge Response, Cute Kids, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Future Fic, Sante - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sklove/pseuds/sklove
Summary: "Maybe it didn't turn out like I planned. Maybe that's why I'm such a lucky man."Or, seven moments in the future life of Dante and Sam. {not linear}
Relationships: Dante Falconeri/Samantha "Sam" McCall
Comments: 14
Kudos: 9





	1. Snuggled in a blanket

**Author's Note:**

> This will have 7 parts total. One for each day of the week. Please leave kudos & comments. They are fuel for my muse. These are mostly fluffy. Like rot your teeth sweet lol

_A tiny whimper in the darkness._

“Daddy, Mommy, I had a bad dream.”

Dante and Sam are immediately awake. Sam scrambles for the lamp switch as Dante pushes back the covers. Alessia Falconeri’s big brown eyes are glassy as she stares up at them from the foot of the bed.

Dante beckons to his daughter. Folding her gently into his arms, he lightly ruffles her messy black curls. “I’m sorry, Sia, baby,” he says. “What did you dream about this time?”

“A big, mean monster!” Alessia cries.

“I’m sorry to hear that, button-nose. That had to be pretty terrifying."

The four-year-old cuddles with her father as Sam softly rubs her back. “I scared. Cousin Wiley said this house is ‘aunted.”

Sam rolls her eyes at Dante. “I thought we told your nephew to stop filling our kids' heads with crazy ghost stories.”

“We did,” Dante replies, “but come on. You know the boy has a mind of his own.”

“Yeah, well _I_ have half a mind to go straight to Willow and Michael, and tell them to f-”

Dante coughs loudly. _“Ahem._ Never mind that.”

“Can I get in bed with you?” Alessia interrupts them, cupping her hands in a pleading gesture. All the parenting books they've read over the years say children shouldn't sleep in their parents’ beds, but Alessia is their youngest, and dammit, she is adorable. They could never deny her.

“Of course, you can,” Sam answers. Dante tugs Alessia into the warmth of the king-sized bed and they are soon snuggled together beneath a heap of blankets, Alessia nestled between them; Sam and Dante’s bare feet pressed up against each other’s.

“Try to get some sleep, alright, sweetheart?” Dante encourages his daughter.

Alessia sniffles. “O-okay,” she says uncertainly.

“No one can hurt you, Alessia. Not in here. Not with us,” Sam reassures her. “I promise.”

Dante rubs the little girl’s chubby belly soothingly. “Your mama’s right. You’re safe in here. The worst thing you have to fear is waking up feeling cold because your mom stole all the covers in the middle of the night.”

“Hey, I heard that.” Sam chucks a pillow at Dante. It bounces harmlessly off his head and hits the floor with a soft _whoosh._ “If anyone is a blanket hog in this family, I believe it’s you, buddy.”

Alessia giggles. It’s a soft, pleasant ripple in the darkness. “Mommy and Daddy so silly.”

“Us? Silly?” Dante peeps over Alessia’s head at Sam. Their eyes meet in the pale slip of moonlight shining through the window. “Do you agree with that, Mama? Do you think we’re silly?”

Sam smirks. “Well, _you_ are.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re always the picture of decorum.”

Sam nods. “You got it.”

“Sia, your Mom may be beautiful, but she is so full of-”

It’s Sam’s turn to cough loudly. _“Ahem.”_

She busses Alessia’s cheek with her plump lips. “Go to sleep, you two."

Sam burrows deeper into the blankets with Alessia. Grinning, Dante loops his arm protectively about the both of them.

_Sleep beckons._


	2. The smell of cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More rot-your-teeth sweetness lol Enjoy!

“Ma, I’m not too sure about this,” Dante admits as he watches Olivia gathering ingredients and setting them out on the countertop.

“What aren’t you so sure about, honey?” Olivia asks as she pops the lid on a container of granulated sugar.

“Sam - _baking?”_ He scratches his bearded cheek. “The last time she tried, she almost burned down our house, kids and all.”

“Hey, I heard that,” Sam protests as she saunters into the kitchen. She’s dressed in a black pencil skirt and crinkly white top. She’s booted heels, long legs, and all saucy attitude. He’s still madly in love with her, even after all this time.

Dante smirks at her. “I am just sayin’; I hope Ned has insurance on this old place.”

“Haha,” Sam smirks back. She grabs a spatula off the counter and waves it threateningly at him. “I have this thing and don’t think I won’t use it.”

“Do you know what ‘this thing’ is called?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Really?”

“Well, I know it stirs stuff,” she says.

“It also _swats_ stuff,” Olivia pipes up. “Give him a smack, Sam, or I’ll do it for you.”

“Where should I hit him?” Sam grins.

“Anywhere but the teeth,” Olivia says. “It took me too many years to pay off his braces.”

Sam laughs. “You had braces growing up?”

Dante flashes a smile. “You think these amazingly straight white teeth happened naturally? I mean, I’m flattered you think I’m so perfect, but-”

“Hit him, Sam!” Olivia shrieks. “When an ego gets that big, it has to be cut down to size.”

“You're right,” Sam says. She wields the spatula menacingly as Dante slips past her.

“Come back here, you jerk!” Sam screeches.

Dante sails out of the kitchen, but not before flashing his wife and mother a shit-eating, pearly white smile. He hears Sam cursing and Olivia muttering his name as he goes to check on the kids.

Xoxoxo

Sam hovers at the oven, trying to peek through the dark glass window at the cupcakes. “I can’t tell,” she says. “Do they seem okay to you?”

“I’m sure they’re fine." Olivia waves her hand. “I told you, my Aunt Concetta’s recipe is fail-proof. These will be the best tasting and looking cupcakes at the whole bake sale.”

“God, I hope so. I don’t want Rocco to be embarrassed if I messed them up somehow. Plus, the football team needs the money for their new uniforms.” She crosses her arms, bouncing around on her heels. “I want to be a good stepmother.”

“You already are, sweetheart.”

“Well, I am trying,” Sam says. “Some days I think I’ve won him over, and other times, I’m not so sure.”

“Trust me, my grandson adores you.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because he’s told me as much.”

Sam’s eyes move to Olivia’s. “Really?”

“Yes, in one of his less surly adolescent moments.”

_“Really?”_

_“Yes,_ Sam.”

“I’m not Lulu…”

“You’re _Sam,_ and that’s more than good enough for us."

The timer dings. “Sam, grab those oven mitts, and let’s see the magic you’ve made.”

Sam slides on the oven mitts which dwarf her tiny hands. This pair likely belong to the maid Alice, wherever she’s hiding out today.

Olivia pulls open the oven door. Steam swirls about them. Sam’s hands are a bit shaky as she moves to pull the two trays out. Setting them both on the cooling rack, she shoves the oven door closed with her slender hip.

Olivia moves over to investigate their handiwork. “Oh, Sam?”

“Yes?” Sam asks. Anxiety zips through her veins. “They’re bad, right? I burnt them, or I forgot to put the flour in when you told me to, or-”

_“Sam!”_

“What?”

“They look perfect.”

Peeking over her mother-in-law’s shoulder, Sam squeals in delight. The cupcakes are lightly golden brown and they do look pretty damn good. Her stomach growls. Olivia smiles at her. “Let them cool for a minute. Then you should have one.”

“I don’t-”  
  
“You are hungry, I can tell. Plus, every baker has to taste their food. It’s a rule.”

“A rule?”

_“A rule._ Written in stone somewhere.”

Sam and Olivia are taste-testing their work when Dante and Rocco walk into the kitchen. Dante sniffs the air. “Somethin’ smells good.”

“Damn right it does,” Olivia says, dabbing at her lips. “Sam is a natural cupcake baker.”

Sam blushes a little. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“It’s true,” Olivia says. “Don’t hide your light under a bushel and all that.”

“Can I have one?” Rocco asks, shoving a hand through his shaggy, dark blonde hair.

“Of course,” Sam replies. Chocolate brown eyes impossibly wide, she watches Rocco anxiously as he takes a big bite of cupcake.

_“Well?”_ Olivia asks.

Rocco nods. “They’re pretty good.”

“Just pretty good?” Sam asks.

_“Good,”_ Rocco amends. “Thanks for making them, Sam.”

“I was happy to try,” Sam says with a pleased smile.

“There’s no stopping you now, Sam,” Olivia says. “We should try out my manicotti recipe next.”

Sam smirks. “I thought that recipe was top secret.”

“Oh, it is,” Olivia says. “When I show it to you, you have to swear never to tell another living soul what the ingredients are.”

“Not even me?” Dante asks.

“Not even you,” Olivia chuckles.

“Just admit it, Ma. You like Sam better than me.”

Olivia winks at Sam. “He ain't wrong.” She waves a spoon at her son. “You’re lucky to have this woman, you know.”

Dante meets Sam’s gaze. “I know. She’s actually too good for me.”

Sam’s bow-like lips twitch. Rocco rolls his eyes. “Oh man, are you two going to kiss again?”

“Would it be so bad if we did?” Dante asks.

Rocco nods. “Yeah. No one wants to see their parents doing that!” He swipes another cupcake from the rack and hauls ass out of the kitchen.

Dante laughs and leans over to kiss his wife, but stops when he sees the look on her face. Her eyes are misty and her bottom lip trembles. “Sam?” He asks. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. It's just, he said -” Sam swallows hard. “Rocco said ‘parents’.”

“Yeah, he did,” Dante says.

“Maybe it was a mistake…”

“He didn’t say dad and stepmom,” Olivia pipes up. “He said ‘parents’.”

“Am I missing something here?” Dante asks.

“Dante,” Olivia sighs, “Rocco seems to think of Sam as a mother figure.”

Dante nods. “Of course he does. _She is.”_ He moves to Sam, slips his arms around her waist. “He has for a while, you know. Thought of you as a second mom, I mean.”

“Seriously?” Sam blinks.

“Seriously. He asked me a while ago if it was a betrayal to Lulu to think of you that way-”

“What did you say?”

“I said, it wasn’t.”

“And you - is it okay with you that he thinks of me like that?”

Dante nods. “Yes. Lulu’s been gone a long time. She helped give him life, she nurtured him and protected him when I couldn’t, and we all miss her, but nothing makes me happier than knowing my oldest child and my wife adore each other. It’s pretty much all I’ve been hoping for.”

“Dante…”

“Yeah, babe?”

“You’re sweet,” Sam says.

“Don’t tell anyone.” He nuzzles her cheek with his scruffy one. “So what do you say? Can I have one of those cupcakes now?”

Sam laughs. “I guess,” she says. “But you have to help me frost the rest.”

“Do I have to?”

Sam picks up a cupcake and waves it under his nose. “You don’t have to, but -”  
  
“No tasting unless I do?”

“You got it, buddy.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Sam, but alright.” He takes the cupcake from her, peels the wrapper deftly with one hand while resting his other one on the curve of her hip.

He smiles at her as he chews. “Well?” She asks when he’s finished the whole thing.

“It's good.”

“Just good?”

_“Delicious.”_

“And you didn't think I had it in me.”

“I was wrong.”

“Say that again.”

“I was wrong.”

“Music to my ears,” she murmurs. She presses a butter knife into his hand. “Now get to frosting.”

Dante carefully takes the knife from her hand and sets it aside. “First things first." He pulls her into a kiss. Olivia shakes her head at them, mutters something about getting a room, and then leaves them to their makeout session.

_The frosting can wait._


	3. Climbing into a warm bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is Rated M for Mature!
> 
> Thanks to my boo Katie (thewrittennerd) for all her help with this piece. It wouldn't have been possible without her assistance.

Sam wasn't sure how she managed some days. After her love story with Jason had completely fallen apart and she’d watched him turn to another woman (she was grateful it wasn't Elizabeth or Britt; the last two women she truly trusted), her life had solely centered around work and raising Danny and Scout.

_But then there was Dante._ Amazingly sweet and patient Dante. It was on days like this, with endless rain pouring down, that Sam realized how lucky she was.

Struggling to insert her keys into the lock of her penthouse door, Sam groans quietly in frustration. The door suddenly swings open, revealing the man Sam had previously been thinking about. "Sam? Where've you been? Scout's been asking about you," the handsome detective says with concern, glancing at the unruly curls of her black hair.

"I'm sorry. I got caught up with a case, and then I ran into Britt and Liz at Kelly's," Sam lies through her teeth.

"Sam, you know you can talk to me, right? You were visiting Drew's grave and time got away from you, didn't it?" Dante says, drawing her into the penthouse and closing the door behind her.

"Okay, I admit it," Sam says with defeat. "I had to. It would have been his birthday today."

Dante's mouth curls up into a smile before he presses a kiss to the side of her head and hurries up the stairs to the closet in the hallway. Grabbing a large fluffy towel, Dante closes the door before returning to where Sam is staring off into space. _"Sam?"_ he prompts her, making Sam turn to face him.

"Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts," she says quietly and stares down at her feet.

"No. Hey. We talked about discussing things as a couple, and you can talk to me," Dante says, stepping closer to lift her chin with a single finger.

"I know. It's just…Sometimes I think about how I'd only begun to recover from peeling myself off the floor after things blew up with Jason, and then you swept your way into my life, speeding things along," Sam says, her voice still quiet. "It's kind of amazing how you survived a needle stick by my mother."

"I learned how to be a tough guy real quick growing up in Bensonhurst," Dante says with a smirk and a deep, throaty chuckle.

Sam's breasts tickle his chest through the material of their clothing. Trying to conceal a deep belly laugh, she bends to hide her face against his collarbone. "You're good at doing that. Making me laugh even when it's been a tough day."

"I try," he murmurs, kissing the back of her head with affection before unfolding the towel to drape it across her shoulders. He wraps a section of the towel around the ends of Sam's hair so she didn't drip all over the hardwood flooring. "What do you say I draw you a hot bubble bath and…"

"Don't finish that sentence unless you're planning to join me in the bath," Sam says, getting up on her tippy toes to press her lips to his.

"Don't tempt me," Dante murmurs.

"I'll make it worth your while, Falconeri," Sam says, her bottom lip protruding out in a plea.

Dante caves, hustling to grasp her waist in both hands and haul her up against the hard muscles of his body. He kisses her soundly on the lips. _"Eww,_ Mom! Get a room," seven-year-old Scout says, scrunching up her face as she comes and goes from the kitchen; then races up to her bedroom.

Sam bursts into laughter as she and Dante continue kissing, before making their way up the stairs so Dante can draw her a bath.

In the bathroom, Sam watches through hooded eyelids as Dante turns the knobs on the faucet and then sticks his hand underneath the tap to test the temperature of the water. 

"Let’s get you all warmed up," he says, turning to her with a slight smirk, extending his hand out for her to take.

She laughs again before stripping out of her damp clothes and leaving them on the floor, pressing her back against the door until it's closed. She reaches down to flick the lock and it clicks into place. "Join me, kind sir," Sam whispers as she moves toward him once again to help strip him of his medium gray-colored T-shirt, jeans, and boxer-briefs.

"Kind sir, huh?" Dante asks with another chuckle, waiting until she's stepped into the bathtub filled with water to the brim before getting in behind her and sitting with her back against his chest. “Hey, I’ll take it.”

He settles his large hands on the curve of her waist as her breasts bob on the surface of the water. He nibbles her neck, moving his soft lips along the taut column of her throat. Sam purrs, pushing back against him, feeling the point of his thick member poking the globe of her left buttock.

They both start in surprise as there’s suddenly a loud rap against the door. _“Mom!_ Danny, and Rocco, and me are going across the hall to Jennie’s!” Scout calls out.

“Uhh,” Sam squeaks out, "alright. Have fun!”

Dante stifles a rumbling laugh in the hollow of her shoulder. They are silent as they hear murmurs outside the door and the stampeding of feet moving down the staircase. The front door slams below with a resounding _bang!_

"And then there were two," Dante muses.

“Maybe we should have been more discreet,” Sam laughs. Dante glides his hand through the water to lightly pinch her plump right nipple. “Mhmm, _uhhh!”_

“We could have been discreet, sure, but then they never would have left,” Dante says pointedly. He smooths the thick mane of curls off her neck and nips her earlobe. “And then we really couldn’t be loud. And I know you like to be loud.”

"I’m not the only one,” Sam laughs, sloshing water out of the tub as she turns in the water to face him. He growls as she straddles his legs, melding her wet pussy to his thigh.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about."

She rubs her bare sex against him. Her breasts slap his chest. _“Sammmm,”_ he moans.

“Louder,” she whispers.

“Sam, come on.”

_“Louder,”_ she commands. She sluices her tiny hands through the water to cup his balls with her fingers. “Louder, Dante.”

“You’re not playin’ fair, baby.” He stiffens as she strokes him, her hand finding his hard length and giving it several firm jerks. “Sam, _fuck! Fuck!”_

Dante’s eyes are smoky. His back is arched into a hard, straight line as she continues to massage him. Obscenities fly from his mouth as Sam brings him close to the edge.

“You’re so loud,” Sam giggles.

“Can’t - _uhhhh_ \- help it. You’re making me lose my mind, woman.”

“Now that’s the idea.”

“I thought I was supposed to be getting _you_ warmed up.”

“Are you warm?”

“Actually, I’m on _fire.”_ He grabs her face between his hands and kisses her hard on the mouth. His tongue pushes between her lips. They kiss passionately.

“Sam,” he says as she rocks against his hip. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Well…”  
  
“I need to be inside you when I come,” Dante says urgently. “I _want_ to be inside you. Come on, baby, no more teasing.”

Sam nods, feigns thinking it over, and then agrees. “Okay, okay,” she whispers.

Dante takes his member in hand as Sam settles atop him. His fingers find her hot, wet center. She mewls as he stretches her gently. She gasps in pleasure as he thumbs her clit; whimpering when he withdraws his hand. She gives him a sexy pout and then he’s touching her there again as she rolls her hips.

His dick is pressed against the tight seam of her pussy lips. Sam cries out in pleasure as he pushes into her. Gripping her around the waist, he settles her atop him.

Straddling Dante, her body begins to move in time with his in a fevered dance of passion. Dante pulls her still closer, crushing her generous breasts to his muscular chest as she gyrates her hips. He pulls out of her completely and then slams back into her. Sam moans in contentment. Water splashes the floor.

Her hands clench his large biceps as they make love furiously. Her nails bite into the taut skin of his arm as they kiss and fondle. Kiss and fondle. She doesn’t know where she ends and he begins.

His hand slides between their bodies and he drags his index finger carefully along her inner thigh. She cries out - _“Dante, oh god, Dante!”_ \- as he moves the purposeful digit inside her. She clamps down on his dick and finger, trying to draw both deeper inside of her core.

Dante leans over to latch his lips onto one of her dusky nipples. As Dante laps at her breast, Sam feels her climax building. She tingles all over.

“Dante, pl-please,” she pants, rocking against his manhood. Dante is close too. His breaths are raggedy in her ears as his grip tightens about her. He licks the aching petal of her nipple before moving his mouth to minister to the other one.

“Danteeeee!” Sam screams, throwing her head back as she cums. Lights explode behind her eyes; bright, sparkling fireworks. Her brain feels soft and mushy; weightless and heavy all at the same time. Warmth ebbs through her veins spreading outwards and upwards. Every fiber of her being is alive. _“Ohmigod!”_

Her orgasmic screams in his ears, Dante comes too. His hips buck wildly as he pumps into her twice more and finally tumbles back against the edge of the bathtub. Panting loudly in time, they don’t speak for a long moment. Words mean little.

Sam snuggles against Dante’s chest as he rests his head on the rim of the bathtub. His arms mold her to him. She sighs quietly. “You okay?” 

Sam nods. “I think I could get used to this.”

“Well, you can."

Sam looks up at him, eyes soft, voice hushed. “I love being with you, Dante. What we share… It's everything.”

“I feel the same way.” He slips a finger beneath her chin. Their eyes lock as he strokes her cheek. His expression is one of concern. “Hey, I already told you this, but you could talk to me about anything. _So talk.”_

“Visiting Drew today at the cemetery... Well, I guess I just realized how many people I’ve lost. Maybe I’m a little worried-”

“Worried ... Wait, worried you’ll lose me?”

Sam nods slowly.

"Not going to happen."

"How can you be so sure? Sometimes I feel like we’re living on borrowed time; that any minute things could shift forever and I don't want that to happen, but -"

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gingerly busses her forehead. “I’m in it for the long haul, Sam. I moved Rocco in here because I believed we have a future together. I believe in _us.”_

“I know, but -" She sighs. "I don’t want to say her name… Not here of all places, after we’ve just -”

_“Made love.”_

Sam nods. “Right, but I can’t replace her, Dante.”

“I don’t want you to,” Dante replies. “I loved her. She was my wife. The same as Drew was your husband, but-”

“It's different. Drew is dead and - and she’s not … _Lulu’s_ not. She could wake up any moment, Dante.”

“The doctors said that's unlikely. And you have to remember, we weren’t together when she went into the coma.”

“But you love her … And I’m not her.”

“A part of me will always love her and what we had together. She gave me my son. I can't regret her any more than you could regret the fathers of your children ... But Sam, I choose to live in the here and now and I am pretty damn crazy about you. I love _you,_ Sam. You woke me up inside. You gave me hope... Do you really think I could ever walk away from that? That I could ever walk away from _you?"_

“Lulu-”

“She was a big part of me, and I do hope she wakes up for Rocco’s sake, for Charlotte’s… for everyone who ever cared about her. She is goodness and light, but she isn't mine anymore. _She isn’t._ You on the other hand - you _are_ mine. Now, and tomorrow, and _way_ far into the future. I am not letting you go, Sam. Not even if you get sick of me.”

Sam chuckles, dashes at her moist eyelashes. “Yes, well, you drive me crazy sometimes, but I like - no, I _love_ \- what we have together. I love the life we’ve built and this little family we share. I don’t want to ever become an obligation to you though.”

“You never will be,” Dante murmurs, kissing her chin, her cheek, and her lips ever so gently. “You never have been. I’m not kidding, Sam. I am exactly where I want to be.”

Sam burrows still closer to him. “So am I."

“I love you, McCall.”

“I love you, Falconeri.”

He runs his hands up and down her arms. “How do you feel now?”

Sam looks up at him before sliding her arms around his impossibly broad shoulders. “I feel warm, Dante. I feel _warm.”_


End file.
